Dead Frontier/Issue 137
This is Issue #137 of Dead Frontier, titled Control. This is the fifth issue in Volume 23. Issue 137 - Control In her office, Heidi stands over a small radio that sits on her desk. She’s waiting for something, and when the radio crackles with static, she eagerly grabs the speaker attached to the device. “Yeah--sorry for the delay,” says a man from the radio, and she suddenly looks confused. She doesn’t recognize this voice. “Who is this?” she demands. “Private Elliott Black. You sounded pretty urgent and Johnson’s kinda busy right now so...gotta deal with me.” He laughs uncomfortably, but stifles it. He clears his throat. Heidi shakes her head and brings the speaker closer to her mouth. “I need to know where you are. Things are out of control, and I need you here.” Elliott hesitates. “You’re gonna have to give us another day at least. LA to Denver ain’t a half hour trip, lady.” “Listen to me. They’re rioting--we can’t contain it, and without you here--” “I understand that. We’re on our way, and we’re moving as fast as we can. We’ll contact you in a couple hours.” Static again, and she knows he’s gone. She slams the speaker down in frustration. As grateful as she is that Los Angeles is agreeing to help them out, the situation is escalating to frightening levels, and it’s only a matter of time before they’ve completely lost control. ---- When the volume outside suddenly increases to a terrifying level, Lienne emerges from her room and back into the apartment’s main area. Jake is already glued to the window, his hands pressed against the glass. “Holy shit,” he says. Although evening has fallen, leaving the sky an eerie orange-red, Jake didn’t think things would get this serious this fast. Mixed in with the true protestors are looters and agitators, rummaging through buildings and shops to get their hands on whatever they can and fleeing just as quickly as they came. "Damn, that's so c-cool." "Cool?" Lienne repeats. "Yeah. That guy's got a m-molotov. Look." He points down the street, where a man has just set fire to a molotov cocktail. He flings it; the ball of fire lands through a store window, setting it ablaze. "That's cool to you?" "Sort of." "So you might be a future arsonist. Not surprising." She grabs the drapes and pulls them shut. This removes the last bits of sunlight and leaves them in mostly darkness. "Get away from the glass, grab some candles, c'mon." It takes a bit of searching, but an old and apparently forgotten, dusty box is stuffed in the back of the hall closet. It contains all sorts of things--christmas decorations, picture frames, crumbling books--but all Jake is interested in are the two small candles laying at the bottom. "Found some," he calls out. Lienne takes them from him, a box of matches in her hand. She lights them silently and places both side by side on the kitchen table. It gives them just enough light that they can see the other sitting across from them. Jake looks up and exhales slowly. "So...what do we do?" he asks. She's just as unsure and confused as he is. But of course, she's still being looked to for the answers. "We wait until it blows over." ---- Hunter leans against the brick of the apartment building, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie. He's got a small bruise on his cheek, but it's barely noticeable. Now that he's alone, he seethes visibly, directing his anger more towards himself than toward Dean and Lucy. He doesn't know why he always feels the need to say something that'll get him into obvious trouble. He couldn't care less about Dean, but he knows insulting Cole, the main reason Hunter is here in the first place, was a bad move. He would says he's ashamed, but it's an inadequate description. From here, he's well-hidden but still has a good vantage point of the streets. Their idiocy, the fact that these people think fighting back is going to get them somewhere, makes him want to laugh. He shakes his head in astonishment and sighs, watching as his breath morphs into mist. He finds himself beginning to calm down, until the chaos is brought to his direction. A group of people, shouting with psychotic glee, holding stolen weapons, rush past him. One man in the crowd spots Hunter and tries to pull him along as he rushes past. Hunter tugs his arm away and takes a few steps back. "We're goin' downtown, man! What the hell are you doin' standing here?!" the man says. He's young and fresh-faced. So naive, Hunter realizes. "Not wasting my time," Hunter says simply, and he turns away. The man grabs onto his shoulder. Hunter turns menacingly in response, and the man backs away, holding his hands up, palms forward, in a defensive gesture. "Sorry, dude. Sorry," he mutters. He's soon just another face in the crowd. Hunter lingers for just a few seconds, allowing the crowd to pass, before circling around to the front of the building. He enters the front door and bounds up the several sets of stairs. Breathing hard, he stops in front of Daniel's room, where Lucy and Dean should still be hiding out. He bangs his fist on the wood. "It's Hunter!" he shouts. It only takes a few moments for the door to open, and Lucy stands there, clearly not overjoyed to see him but she lets him in anyway. "You see what's going on out there?" Hunter asks. He pulls his hood off his head and closes the door behind him. "Yeah. Almost got my head blown off, too," Dean says, and he nods toward the window. Hunter spots the fresh bullet hole. "Jesus...well, that big brain of yours is obviously intact, so congratulations." They don't even bother to acknowledge him, and his mouth moves into a frown. "We should probably stay put." Lucy and Dean mutter agreements. Hunter takes a quick glance at Lucy--she leans against the table with her arms crossed. She radiates annoyance, even shifting uncomfortably when he passes by. However, he rethinks this and takes a step backward, so he's standing directly in front of her. He knows it'll mean less than nothing to her if he apologizes, so why would he bother? "He was a good guy," Hunter says instead. "Better person than I was." No part of her demeanor changes--and he wonders if it was worth it so say anything at all. He sighs and turns away, the silence as uncomfortable as ever. ---- Hunter holds a flimsy paper cup in his hand, filled to the brim with red wine. He paces around the room slowly and downs the contents. The cup is soon a crumpled mess in his fist, and he tosses it across the room. It lands silently in a far corner. Dean’s snoring finally pulls his attention to something else. Dean is spread out on the couch, the stress of the day obviously having taken its toll on him. A thin stream of drool falls from his mouth, and Hunter chuckles. “Ugly fucker, isn’t he?” Hunter says. He looks toward Lucy, who sits on the carpet next to one of the couches, her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled toward her chest. She’s not amused. “Should I...wipe his mouth or something?” This makes her crack a smile, and she shakes her head. “Leave him alone,” she suggests. “Hm...I could draw a moustache on his face. Or a dick. Got a marker?” “No, I don’t.” He smirks. “You’re trying really hard to be mad at me. Really hard.” Her smile is no longer there, so he saunters over and plops himself down on the floor next to her. “I really don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry--alright, I am. Should’ve shut my mouth, but you know me well enough…” “Forget about it. Not in the mood to talk about it--or him, especially.” She rests her arms on her knees during a short silence. “Sorry for hitting you.” “I deserved it, it’s alright. Want another shot?” “Maybe another time.” She closes her eyes with a sigh and leans her head against the wall. His face shifts to an expression of concern. “Alright,” he says, standing. He heads over to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of wine from the counter; he retrieves two paper cups from a lower cabinet. He fills both cups about halfway and returns to her. “Had some earlier and I can already feel it,” he says. “Here.” He holds the cup out. She hesitates before taking it, and he takes note of her wariness. However, she gulps it down quickly. One cup shouldn’t hurt. “What’s the matter with you?” he asks, sitting again. “Not scared of wine now, are you?” “No,” she says with a short laugh. “I can get you some more--” he offers, but she’s quick to deny. She decides it’s not going be a secret much longer. But if she does want to keep it hidden for a while more, she knows he’ll understand and respect her wishes. He should relate. “I’m really trying my best not to drink,” he begins. “Baby on the way. One thing can lead to another and--” “Baby?” he echoes. It only takes a moment for his confusion to turn into pure excitement. He laughs and claps his hands together once. Dean stirs slightly on the couch but falls back into his slumber after muttering a few unintelligible phrases. “That’s great--congratulations!” He’s so full of honest joy that it brings a smile to Lucy’s face. “Thank you.” “Have you...have you got names, middle names? Are you excited?” She can’t help but laugh at his eagerness. “No, not yet. But I'm excited, yeah. Nervous." “Yes, naturally. But...wow. Something good for once. I’m--I’m happy for you, really.” His thoughts are focused on so many things--Karen, her pregnancy, their future, this true happiness he feels right now. It’s odd, this combination of emotions, and, to him, it seems out of place. But he’s grateful that there’s finally something everyone can be optimistic about. ---- Adam keeps his hand grasped tightly around Ivy’s as they speed down the hall. The hysteria has found its way up here, but on a more subdued level than downstairs. They rush past two sobbing women sprinting in the opposite direction, toward one of the floor’s multiple stairwells. Daniel follows close behind, and they turn into the next hall. A group of rioters are flooding out of the stairwell--Adam makes the quick decision to push through. “Move! Move!” Adam orders. The sight of a child makes most of them comply, but a good portion are so filled with adrenaline they pay no mind to the three. Daniel is forced to push a man out of the way just so they can move through the doorway. “Out of the fucking way!” Daniel screams. People move to the right to allow them through, and in his haste, he runs into someone. A woman. It’s Tora. She’d try to call his name, but their collision prevented it. “Y-you’re out? How--” he begins, holding her face in his hands. “Doesn’t matter,” she says. “Farrah’s still down there.” “You know where?” “Yeah, I can show you.” She grabs one of his hands and pulls him along, past those that still file up the stairwell. “C’mon.” ---- Someone is trying to get into Farrah’s room. It’s a bulky man in a dark uniform, and he’s punching numbers hastily on the keypad. She doesn’t want to let him in, not with what’s going on right there in the hall. She has no other choice but to press her back against the door. The man bangs his palm against it once he enters the code successfully. “Please--let me in!” he screams. Bullets crash against the window, and he flinches. “N-no! I’m sorry!” Farrah says, slamming her eyes shut. She tries to block out the sounds--she’s unsuccessful. The man begins ramming his shoulder against the door. In her state, she can’t hold him off. Her energy is too depleted, and with just a few more hits, he’s able to slide his arm through. “''Please''!” Farrah uses the last of her strength to push back once more. His bone crunches beneath the wood, and he slips his arm out with a scream, which is silenced with the sound of gunshots. His body falls to the tile. Farrah takes a deep, relieved breath and closes her eyes. There's another quick burst of gunshots, and this time, her door is penetrated. She looks down and sees that a dark-red wound has formed on her abdomen. The sight of the bullet hole is what sets the pain in motion. She places a hand against it, her palms and fingers soon painted a deep crimson, and falls to her knees. Her vision darkens, the adrenaline she'd expect to help dull the pain not kicking in. ---- "Down here," Tora says. She hasn't let go of Daniel's hand the entire way down. She leads him, Adam, and Ivy through shouting people and to Farrah's window. This urgency has thrown her symptoms into nonexistence. "Oh, shit," Daniel mutters when they stop in front of the glass. Farrah lies face first on the tile. The blood pools around her profusely, and with the bullet holes in the door, they're able to come to a speedy and grave conclusion. "Let's go." Daniel sets his jaw--as much as it hurts him to do so, his faze lingers over theirs to solidify his decision. Time not on their side, they don’t protest. They head back the other way, the sounds of gunshots following them, and they disappear into the stairwell again. They emerge through the lobby doors about a minute after. The dead litter the floor. Bullet holes in their backs, heads, stomachs, they lie there uselessly. Murdered, in cold blood. The three adults are so overwhelmed they can’t even urge Ivy to look away. They’re frozen, until Tora tugs on Daniel’s arm and the rest follow along. The streets are calmer than upstairs, but not by much. They’re able to stick close together for a short while--when things get too hectic, Adam turns into an alleyway and stops. He doubles over and puts his hands on his knees. Tora, finally grateful for a break, leans against the wall. Her knees feel weak, her vision blurry. “Are you okay?” Daniel says. He takes a step forward, but she waves him off. “I’m fine, I’m okay,” she says. She focuses less on her own condition and looks down at Ivy. “What happened--are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” Ivy says. Her voice has a slight tremor. “He just asked me questions.” “No one hurt you?” “No.” The worry visibly lifts from Tora, and she finally relaxes. Suddenly, she stiffens again and lifts her head. She can’t believe it took her this long to notice it. “Where’s Duke?” she asks. “Dead,” Daniel says quickly, avoiding the sad stares and burdening silences that usually follow a revelation like this. They look to Adam, whose labored breaths of exhaustion now distinguish his efforts to hold back his anger. But he can’t. He smashes his fist against the brick wall in front of him with a yell. Some bone is knocked out of place, but right now, the pain is more inviting than uncomfortable. He does it again, then twice more, when he feels a hand rest on his shoulder. He knows it’s Daniel without even turning. “Come on, cool yourself down,” Daniel advises. “This is gonna get you nowhere.” “Whatever. Let’s just go,” Adam says, and he pushes Daniel away rudely, some of the blood from his knuckles staining Daniel’s clothes. “Adam--” “What, man? What?” he snaps. Daniel is legitimately taken off guard by this outburst, and he takes an instinctive step back. A fire burns in Adam’s eyes at a level Daniel has never seen--and when Daniel takes a quick look back at Tora, he can tell she’s never witnessed it either. “Forget it,” Daniel says. “I’m sorry. Gotta get back anyway.” ---- Karl is sitting in a corner of his room. He’s been able to block out the terrifying sounds by now, the thoughts in his head more haunting than anything else. Daniel, Duke, and Adam could be dead right now, because of his cowardice. And even after he revealed their true intentions, he hasn’t been let out. Shame gets the better of him, and he covers his face in his hands. All he wanted was a chance. This time, it meant putting himself before everyone else, and it backfired. He bangs the back of his head against the wall in frustration, relishing in the pain he thinks he deserves. He clenches his fists, brings them to his temples, and releases a wretched yell. ---- The moon has risen to a corner of the sky. Ivy’s hand rests in Tora’s now and Tora pulls her along. “Tora,” Ivy says. She receives no response. “Tora?” Tora looks down at her, proceeding at the same pace. “We--we can slow down. You don’t look good.” “I’m fine. Stop worrying,” Tora assures. But she can feel it. She can’t go on too much longer like this, forced to dodge crowd and act quick on her feet. The energy that came with her burst of adrenaline earlier is fading. She just needs it to last a little longer. Giving up now when they’re so close to safety. The familiar structure of the apartment building comes into view, the entrance blocked by a few calm protesters talking in harsh whispers amongst themselves. “Excuse us,” Daniel says. They push past, groan softly at the prospect of more stairs, but ascend the floors anyway. Daniel finds his room number and kicks the door with an unnecessary amount of force. “It’s us!” There’s the sound of furniture being moved, and after about a minute, the door opens. Lucy stands there and takes in the four faces. She puts her hand to her chest in relief, but realizes as quickly as Hunter and Dean do that two are missing. They don’t ask. “Come on,” Lucy says. Noticing the blood, she grabs Adam by the arm and pulls him inside, toward the table. For a second, she heads into the bedroom but quickly returns with a backpack. “I’ll go get Lienne and Jake,” Dean offers. A few agreements pass between them, and he leaves into the hall. At the table, Lucy rummages through her bag for some kind of aid. She takes a few glimpses at Adam’s stoic features. “They’re not--” she begins. “Both dead,” he says. “And Karl?” “No idea. No time to go back, anyway.” He wouldn’t even know where to look--and he likes Karl, but with his own safety and everyone else’s on the line, he can’t take the risk. “Ced?” She shakes her head. She returns to her search, pulling a few things out and setting them on the table. Adam’s eyes fall on a familiar notebook that Lucy manages to ignore. “You have it?” Adam asks. She looks up, shifts her eyes to where he’s looking. “Y-yeah,” she says. Finally, she pulls out a meager roll of bandages and a bottle of water. “I haven’t looked through it all but yeah--I have it.” “Are you going to?” She doesn’t look at him as she asks for his hand. He gives it to her, and she uncaps the bottle. He winces but makes no audible cues to his pain as the blood is washed off. “I don’t know,” she says, finally. She’s got nothing to disinfect it with, so she begins with the wrapping. “How’d this happen?” she asks, effectively changing the topic. “Punching brick walls. Hurts,” he says flatly. “I’m guessing I don’t wanna know.” “Nah, you don’t.” He balls his good hand into a fist and rests his cheek on top of it. He watches emotionlessly, wordlessly, as she tends to his wounds. ---- It only takes a few minutes for Lienne and Jake to return to the apartment with Dean. Hunter opens the door for them, and when Lienne sees Ivy she scoops her into a hug. “You’re okay?” Lienne asks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t stick needles in me or anything,” Ivy says. Lienne laughs quietly. “Good. I was hoping they wouldn’t.” Lienne lets her go and stands. When her figure moves to the side, Jake appears from behind her. He and Ivy share similarly beaming smiles, but it’s clear he’s attempting to tone his down. But he can’t. “L-long day?” he says. She responds by trapping him in a hug. “Whoa.” He laughs awkwardly and looks around at the small, sincere smiles on the faces of everyone else. “I g-guess that’s a yes.” “I’m okay, yeah,” she says. “You can stop h-hugging me now.” “Five more seconds.” There are a couple of laughs that die down quickly, but Ivy obviously meant it as a joke since she pulls away soon after. However, Lienne isn’t smiling anymore. She pulls Daniel to the side, and her grip on his arm tightens as she comes closer to asking the dreaded question. “What happened to Duke and Farrah?” she says. “Some soldiers found out what were doin’--shot at us,” Daniel explains. “Got Duke in the neck. Adam went back for him, but he was gone already. We went to find Farrah, too, but I--I don’t know. I think she got shot or something...she wasn’t gonna make it out. We had to go.” Lienne lets out a sigh--it’s heavy and full of exhaustion. She doesn’t think she can deal with herself crying anymore, and the tears don’t come. She’s sad, she’s angry, she’s frustrated; everything is accumulating at an astonishing rate. But most of all, she’s tired--of everything, and of this city especially. Category:Dead Frontier Category:Dead Frontier Issues Category:Issues Category:Walkerbait22's Stories